Search

Supporting the Colitis, Crohn's, ostomy and J-Pouch community one butt joke at a time

Category

1 year after TD

REMINDER: You're still sick.

I posted on the BPT facebook page earlier last week that I had pouchitis and that I was taking Flagyl for it.

Well…I got cocky.

I felt better within a few days and like a total dumb ass stopped taking the Flagyl after only about 5 days, only half of the recommended course. In the past this has worked for me, however I was not so lucky this time. It came back, and it came back angry. I noticed it again last Thursday but it really took a toll on Friday. I decided to start taking the Flagyl again but by that time the damage was already done. I laid on the couch most of Friday, Saturday and Sunday hoping to get less tired and feel better but it didn’t really help. So add in some person life drama, and drinking way too much coffee over the last few weeks and bam. Tuesday I checked myself into the ER for pouchitis and severe dehydration.

If you’re like me, you debate the ER for about 3 days before actually going. I called at least 4 friends to get their opinions. I even had my spiel for the doctors and nurses ready to go. It went something like, ” Hi, I have pouchitis and I’m dehydrated, just get me some saline and a CBC and I’ll be out of your way”.  But we all know what never really works. By the time I decided to actually go, I needed to go. I got there and after I got taken back, and put in the hallway (which is so fun as a patient , I literally could not keep my head up I was so drained. I had to take a huge breath before speaking because I was out of breath, and light headed. If I had waited much longer, I probably would have needed a ride, and I hate having other people drive me to the ER. I hate inconveniencing anyone else with my stupid body.

So I get there and after about an hour and a half, I finally got my IV and my fluids. Shockingly it only took one poke, but of course it wasn’t after the nurse telling me over and over how small and deep my veins were, which generally just gets me primed to ask for another nurse, but she got it, and only after like digging around for a few short seconds. To her credit, I’m not even bruised. Well done over chatty nurse, well done. So here is the best/worst part of the ER. They only half hear what you’re saying. They asked if I had pain or nausea, and I really didn’t so I said no, or it was minimal. So when the nurse came back with my goodies she brought, saline, IV Flagyl, IV Benadryl, IV Zofran, and IV Dilaudid. I was like, well, I’m never one to turn down the fun meds so shoot up, but srsly….doctors of the world, does anyone listen? I was actually pretty stoked for the Benadryl because it would help me sleep, Zofran and Diladud are like a weird fucked up bonus.

This ER story is much like many others. They gave me drugs I didn’t need, the Resident treated me like I was an idiot, and the nurses were amazing. The end. I decided to stay in observation for a few extra hours just to get the extra fluids because I thought I’d go to work the next day. But I didn’t. I woke up feeling better, but still just so damn tired. So I stayed home and wished I had stayed in observation for 24 hours so I could have gotten the fluids.

I’ve decided to turn my life into a drinking game to keep myself hydrated. Wake up – Drink. Take a shower – drink. Pet your dog – drink. Check facebook – drink. Its really a totally blast. Actually, its not, I hate trying to stay on top of my hydration. I suck at it, because I drink enough water for normal people, but not enough for the colonless. So I’m posted up at work today with some pedialyte and a water bottle.

So what are the lessons we’ve learned from my mistakes?

Take your damn Flagyl for the whole course.

 Also above all this reminded me that no matter how far I run, or how many programs Girls With Guts has, or how many degrees I get, or the fancy job that I have…I am still chronically ill. Not that I pretended not to be, or that I thought this was all past me, but I was doing so well for a really long time. And I got careless. The worst part about all of it, is realizing that this is my fault and it all could have been prevented. I realized a long time ago that I am not fragile, but it took this to remind me that I am not indestructible.

Job Hunting and Jpouching – pt 2

Also…I live in Michigan, where the job market is coming back but still isn’t particularly strong. Before I graduated you could often find me talking to my co-workers at school having mini mental breakdowns about how I’d pay bills and how I’d never find a job. A week before I graduated I was approached by the university about a full time position, and I literally thought that I had been saved by some divine intervention. Rather, I had made a strong impact on my co-workers and had done my job well, so they created a position for me to keep me on board. In addition to that, they also gave me a temporary 3 month contract so I could continue to work while they pushed the lengthy university paperwork through. Right at this same time, I had my practicum site ask me about doing some temporary work for them, because again, I had showed a strong work ethic and a knack for archives. Much to my surprise, I was also approached by another company who had received my resume from a friend. This company had nothing to do directly with Libraries or Archives (what I was getting my masters in), but they were essentially an internet marketing company. I love social media, and I know marketing but on paper, I don’t have a ton going for me. And here is the kicker folks…they wanted me because of my online work with Girls With Guts and this website.

Let me write that again. A potential employer wanted me because of my online work with Girls With Guts and this website.

They didn’t pass me over because I talk like a trucker, or because I have a butt disease and a brain disease and because all I do is share the consistency of my crap. They wanted me because I showed that I know the internet marketing space and how social media can be utilized to make an impact. All I have been doing, is what I love, and what I didn’t realize, and what you should all realize is that people are watching you all the time when you have a presence online. They are watching your triumphs and your faults.

So what did I do? I essentially had 3 job offers on the plate. Read that again. 3 job offers despite my health history (which they all were very aware of, in fact we talked about it during interviews), and despite this very blog. Take a moment and let that sink in.

Got it?

Ok.

So what did I do? I took the job at the university because I loved that job and the benefits were amah-zing. But I only worked there a month before I quit.

Wait, what? I had a stellar job, with amazing benefits, and stability and I quit after a month? I sure as hell did. Why? Because I got offered a better job.

The latest addition to my desk
The latest addition to my desk

A job so good that my boss at the university told me I HAD to take it! And here is where the world comes full circle people. Remember how I said someone is always watching? Last year, I had a concerned father email me about his daughter who was going through the same thing many of us had experienced. After some back and forth, we realized that I had already been in contact with his daughter and we had realized that they lived within miles of my house (small world!) and I met her for coffee. I continued once in a while to converse with her father when he had a question or concern. Through a strange series of events, I ended up at a football tailgate with them and we all had a really great time. A few weeks ago he approached me with a job. Not just a job, but a really good job. I was really happy and comfortable at the university and nervous about switching careers essentially into a field I was unfamiliar with. After many talks, he told me that he had monitored my internet moves, not in a creepy way but how I interact with you all, how I use social media, and how I communicate my message to the world through this blog and Girls With Guts. He really showed me that my hobbies were in fact, marketable skills.

So I took the job and I started last week. And now I work for a giant company, with amazing benefits for anyone but particularly people with chronic illnesses, in a position that will challenge me but also reward me with new skills and relationships, for a boss who knows probably more about me that he would ever want to, but more importantly who understands everything.

So do you see my point? The very condensed version is that this blog got me a career. And to be clear it is a very professional career, at a company I wont mention because while my boss is a-ok with me talking about my butt, I don’t want the company as a whole to come up when people Google my blog/name.

So the long and short of all of this is… be a good person.

Do good work. Don’t be afraid to put yourself out there, and you might just land a dream job because you told your story. In my mission to help others with IBD and MS, I have reached a lot of people. And my point is that you never know who is watching, and the people you want in your life will commend you for sharing your story and being honest.

What I’ve learned through all of this is that I really wouldn’t want to work for someone I had to hide my past from, but I’d rather work for someone who respects me for the journey I’ve traveled. For me that is what being a true activist is all about. I understand those who write anonymous blogs, but at the same time, I think they are doing themselves a disservice and a disservice to their community. As an activist, I do my best to set an example, and I would feel like a fake if I hid who I was and what I am passionate about.

I am not so naïve that I think what happened to me can happen to everyone else. I don’t think there are concerned family members reading blogs just waiting for the chance to pounce and offer up life-changing careers. But even if it doesn’t result in a fantastic career for you, do you see how you always will reach the right person at the right time? I think that is what it all comes down to. Timing. Karma. Fate. Whatever you want to call it. I do think that if you put good in the world, then someday, somehow you will get good back.

So, thank you boss man, for taking a chance on me and helping to prove to a whole community of people that there is life beyond chronic illness.

 

Job Hunting and Jpouching – Pt 1

I wanted to talk to you guys about employment and how to tackle the medical history exposure part of it. I am only going to speak of my experience, as that is what I know best.

More than likely, I’ll be breaking this post into two parts because if I don’t, I know you guys won’t read it all, and this is about to be some inspiring shit ya’ll.

So the first part is how I’m going to tell you that I totally understand employment and financial woes.

Before I was diagnosed with UC, I was working a mediocre job that I liked, but didn’t love. It paid my bills – barely – but I had enough money and freedom at my job to live a comfortable life. Then I started to get sick. And then I got sicker.

My job performance lacked and for a while my employer understood, but as I got sicker and I wasn’t as good of an employee as I previously was, their compassion dwindled. I think they thought whatever was wrong with me would go away, but when I had to leave work to go to the ER unexpectedly, which would turn into a week-long hospital stay… they weren’t so understanding.

Then the complications started. The long and short of it all is that I eventually got fired. Yes, I know that is technically illegal. But I was too poor and way too sick to do anything about it at that time. Besides, it opened up the door to grad school. The most important part of this was that I knew that I’d not be able to get another job at that time of my life. I had at least 2 surgeries approaching, and no one would ever hire me if they knew that.

Not to mention that I had already posted to the world that I had Multiple Sclerosis, and by this time I was already telling the internet about the graphic details of my bowel movements. Sure there have been moments where I thought about going anonymous, or perhaps even stopping blogging, in the fear that I would always be tainted by the healthy history I’ve posted on the internet.

But honestly (and this will sound super cheesy), I felt like it all had a bigger purpose. I knew I was helping people from the emails that I would get, and more importantly I was helping myself. I have posted my biggest ups and the deepest downs on this blog… you guys know it all. And most of the time I feel like its just you and me butt buddies. But I forget the harsh reality that the world is always lurking. And frankly, smart employers are looking for potential employees by Googling them.

There is that old adage that “If they won’t hire you because you’re sick, you don’t want to work for them anyway”. Right. Thats easy to say when you don’t need a job. The reality is that there is stuff on the internet since 2006 about my medical disasters and much more now specifically about my issues with my diseased ass. Oh..and there is that. Have you guys noticed my vocabulary? Its not like I can use this blog as a writing sample, and there is the whole ‘wanting to die’ thing that I so publicly pushed to the world. Sometimes I think I paint myself as a diseased, mental case with a tiny vocabulary.

If I weren’t me, I would have thought that I’d never get a job. At least that’s what I thought until about a year or so ago. I was still in grad school and I had a former teach approach me about a graduate student assistant position through the school. I wasn’t even looking for a job, but it paid my tuition so I said I’d take the interview. Well…I nailed it. I got a job offer that day. You guys, I felt on top of the world. For the first time since I was fired, I was working a REAL job that wasn’t under the table, working on REAL projects and making a REAL “paycheck”. Well…at least this is what I thought. The reality is this is the first time anyone had wanted to give me a job in a long time, and the first time I felt worthy of a job. It did scare me that they’d look me up and see that I was some degenerate swearing butt talker. I had my family telling me I “deserved” the job, but I didn’t feel like that. It was only a part time job and all I could think about was, “Can I even do 20 hours a week?”. But I had this shining moment where I realized that I didn’t get that job because of anything other than they thought I could do it and that I brought something to the table. This GSA position was like a real job, and I wasn’t just a gopher. I did that job well for a year until I graduated and then had planned on trying my damnest to find another job. During that year, I worked hard, played hard and met some fantastic co-workers. No one there knew I was sick, or had been sick.

And when I decided to tell them all, you know what they did? Told me that I was impressive. They didn’t say that my job was on the line or anything negative but that despite my illnesses they respected me that much more. I must have impressed them, because right before graduation, they offered me a full time job at the library. And university jobs are no joke, we’re talking like a real grown up job, with grown up money and benefits and no one gave half a shit about my health history. IN FACT…most of my co-workers donated to Girls With Guts.

I want to also tell you guys that during this time I had many conversations with friends and blog readers about finding employment after you post your crap (literally) to the world. After starting Girls With Guts, it became my goal to work for myself – that way I never had to worry about who my boss was and what would happen if I got sick again. However, working full time for your own non-profit is incredibly difficult. After graduation I had to be realistic in my job prospects…I had to find a job that would pay my bills, and give me some flexibility in my life to be able to run GWG…

 

Stay tuned..part two tomorrow!

The power of playlists

Team Challenge update: I started running again this week. Thursday I did three miles and I thought I’d die. Seriously…I couldn’t breathe, and I couldn’t run and everything hurt and everything sucked. I just kept feeling like a giant failure. So this past Saturday was our last TC group training session. We were slated to run 8 miles but my trainer suggested that I limit it to just 6 because I’m still nursing the knee. And I was all “Oh really? Just 6 miles? Oh right considering the 3 that I ran just about killed me”. I had to wake up at 6:30 in order to get to training on time because its an hour away. The whole drive there I was just doubting myself. I felt like people would be judging me, and that I was totally just fooling myself. When I got there it was 32 degrees outside…and super windy.

Then it started snowing.

And I was all “I know, God. I got it, I SHOULDN’T RUN EVER”

I was getting dramatic, but the truth of the matter is that I was and am scared about the 1/2 which is now almost exactly a week away. Almost to the hour.

So I start walking..and the wind was blowing my face off and I was angry and freezing balls, so I start running so I don’t start to lose my limbs in what felt like the Arctic Tundra. And I ran. And ran. And ran…and I ran almost all of that 6 miles without stopping.

It was slow. But I did it, and it only hurt a little. And I felt good about it because I remembered how to breathe and how I like to run. I remembered my stride and I started to have fun again. I enjoyed running again on Saturday and a large part of that is due to the little hidden messages I put into my play list.

My running playlist only grows. I don’t take songs off, just add them. The current playlist is 30 songs long…and when it starts to repeat I’m not mad. So here is my current playlist and a few notes about why certain songs are important. Also, I shuffle it everytime so this is in no particular order.

 

Thunderstruck  – ACDC

Bad Romance – Lady Gaga

Ocean Avenue – Yellowcard

This Love – Maroon

Life Of A Salesman- Yellowcard

E.T.-  Katy Perry (This song often helps me find my pace. It seems to be the right BPM for me)

Comeback Kid – Sleigh Bells (Never fails that the iTunes gods always have this one play right when I need a second wave of energy)

Harder To Breathe – Maroon 5 (This song helps me remember to breathe. Always makes me smile too when I get all angry that I can’t breathe)

Fighter – Christina Aguilera (What woman doesn’t love this song? This song always makes me feel like I’m a total bad ass. You know in the beginning she says “After all you put me through, you’d think I’d despise you, but in the end I want to thank you because you made me that much stronger.” And this is always my little running pep talk to myself about IBD. The things I tell myself while running get totally absurd.

Independent –  Webbie Ft Lil Boosie (This song is a jam. ‘Nuff said)

Go Your Own Way – Fleetwood Mac (You guys know that I clearly love this song)

Way Away – Yellowcard 

Breathing – Yellowcard (See a trend here about reminding myself to breathe correctly)

Dance With Me – 112 (There is clapping in this song. I always clap with it. It makes me laugh and keeps me happy)

Twentythree – Yellowcard

Pressing On – Relient K (Never fails…when I get angry or I’m ready to give up, this song comes on. Almost always in the last few miles of my run.)

Believe – Yellowcard

Fixed At Zero – VersaEmerge – The verse of this song goes like this:

There’s a vulture on my shoulder
And he’s telling me to give in
Always hissing right in my ear
Like it’s coming from my own head
It’s got me mixed up
Trying not to give up
Tell me there’s a way to get out of here
Oh, fixed at zero!

I never really thought a lot about this song, until one day I was having the worst run ever. I kept telling myself how hard it was and how much I was not cut out to run long distances. This song came on in one of those moments…and it threw it right in my face that my biggest competition is myself. I am the only one who has told me that I can’t do this. This song is an attitude check.

Miles Apart – Yellowcard

Who I Am Hates Who I’ve Been – Relient K (This one just has a good message)

Let Me See Your Hips Swing-  Savage

TiK ToK – Ke$ha

to da window,to da wall –  Lil Jon

Wall To Wall-  Chris Brown

We No Speak Americano – Yolanda Be Cool & DCUP (Good song whenever you need a pickup or are feeling tired)

7 All I Do Is Win – DJ Khaled (ft. Ludacris, Snoop Dogg, Rick Ross & T-Pain) (All I do is win. Bam. Also…my hands always go up when that part of the song comes up. I’m a run dancer.)

Belly Dancer –  Akon

Dance In The Dark – Lady Gaga (My favorite Gaga song)

 

So a lot of the songs on there are just the right BPM for my pace. It took a while to find the right ones that weren’t too fast or too slow but this playlist works pretty well for me. I also did not put any of those songs on there (except Fighter) for any purpose other than I liked the songs. It was from listening to them over and over while running that it was some kind of fate that they found their way onto my playlist and always seem to play at the right time.

Are you going to Vegas with TC next week? If so I’m going to try to organize a big photo with all the internet friends I’ve made!

Thanks for always reading and supporting me.

 

 

Tough consequences…

Today is November 18th, and my half marathon with Team Challenge is oh so very close. Like 14 days away from today close. At this point I’m supposed to be tapering down my mileage.

Instead…

I’m not running at all.

Why?

This is why.

What knee cap?

That my friends, is what I did last Friday night. Since then its turned into this.

And here I am 9 days later and I have just now stopped limping. I still can’t bend it all the way, and if I put too much pressure on my left leg it feels like my knee cap is going to pop right off of my leg. So…what does this mean?

I’m not really sure. I trained at the gym last monday and my trainer told me he doesn’t think I’ll be able to do the half. I’m pretty determined to do it, but at the same time, I’m not training. I’m not running. Its like starting over if I try to do it and do it well. Ugh.

Remember how I was all “I want to do this well and kick its ass”… I will not be kicking any ass TC weekend in Vegas. I’ll be lucky if the hotel has enough ice to control the swelling in my knee after I force it through 13.1 miles. I’m kind of in this place where I’m not sure if it all has set in yet. I haven’t accepted that I really might not be able to do this race. Like…really.

Instead I just keep telling myself that I have plenty of time to recover and somehow magically my stamina will be fine and I will still have that picture perfect moment crossing the finish line like I imagined. That I’ll be running across that finish line…that I will cross it at all.

Am I nervous? Meh. Yea a little, I don’t want to screw anything up permanently. Am I frustrated? Yea. Really frustrated that I raised over $4,500 with the promise that I’d train my ass off, and cross that finish line while simultaneously punching IBD in its face. I really don’t want to be on the sidelines. I really really want to do this race to the best of my abilities and I haven’t realized that “my abilities” might have just changed in the last week.

:::face palm:::

In other news, my semester is almost over. Just a few more tough weeks and I can ::hopefully:: graduate and get a real life that doesn’t include 4 jobs, 2 classes, a 1/2 marathon, and a new non-profit. I’m really hoping that a job will pan out and that I can not stress about money. If that happens it will be the first time since I got sick…over 3 years ago that I won’t have to worry about money. Wouldn’t that be amazing?! I don’t even remember a life where bills got paid on time and going out to dinner leave me feeling guilty.

I want to have money to lead a normal life. And I want time to focus on Girls With Guts. Doesn’t seem like too much to ask for to me!

 

 

9 Miles is far. 10 is further.

That post title is a real teaser eh?

Last weekend I ran 10 miles. The weekend before that I ran 9 miles. I want to talk about that weekend because that, my friends, sucked. Big ones.

9 Miles was the furthest I had run at that time, and I was scared going into it, but ready. I could feel myself starting to doubt my abilities, but I had a little mental pep talk and I felt like I was ready to go. It was pretty cold out that morning, and I wore all my fancy running clothes to keep me warm but I still felt like I’d need a jacket. So when I left, I had Under Amour, a running zippy by Lucy, and a fleece jacket. Too much? Yes, too much.

We were running a new path, and I was really enjoying it at that time, my stride was good, my pace was good and I felt awesome. I was rocking out to my music and mentally telling myself how awesome I was. I was like, “Hey self, you are kicking ass on the last 5 miles, you’re like already over half way there”.

And then my iPhone spoke  to me, and told me I had only ran 2 miles. Fuck.

I immediately felt like this was not going nearly as well as I thought it was. And it wasn’t. And it was going to get worse. After I had gotten to mile 3 or so, I started to get hot. Like super hot because I decided to dress like I was running in an Arctic tundra. I wanted to ditch my coat somewhere but I had my car keys in it, and this world is full of crazies so I didn’t want it to get stolen.

Mile 4 took forever to hit because the whole time I kept thinking 4.5 miles is only half. HALF! Our turn around point was at 4.5 miles and as I turned around, I just looked back and thought…I’m going to die. This is it. I’ll never make it back. If I had my phone, I would have phoned a friend and shamefully drove my ass back to my car. But I didn’t have my phone, and my only option to ending the misery at this time was to get to steppin’.

By this time my intervals were shot. I never knew if the beeping in my ear was to run or walk. My feet started to hurt. My hip flexors gave up. They were tired of working and instead of really running I was doing this sort of walk, leg thrust thingy. Where basically instead of putting your feet first you’re throwing your hips forward in hopes your legs will actually follow. It was painful and required a lot of thought. To make matters worse, walking was actually harder than running. My body was totally giving up on me, and I couldn’t even take solace in walking back..I had to jog because the walk was much harder.

At this point I realized attempting to hit any kind of time goal was lost. So when I did walk, I stopped to take some pictures of the beautiful Michigan Fall season happening around me. Honestly, I love Michigan in the Fall.

Then the scar tissue chimed in. I have never had my scar tissue hurt while running before but at mile 7…it was screaming at me. Excruciating pain in my lower left abdomen, not even at my former stoma site. It was horrible, every step was like a stabbing pain. At mile 7 I really wanted to give up. Honestly, more than I ever have before. I was done. Mentally and physically shot. Angry at myself for choosing to run this far. Angry that I had to carry my coat and that I even brought a coat. Angry that my interval training was still beeping in my ear and that my play list was repeating and that there were cars at intersections. EVERYTHING made me angry.

Every time I felt like I was close because I thought I recognized something, I remembered that my running app tells me my mileage, so clearly I was not close. Mile 8 hit and I was like ok, just a mile. But at that moment a mile had never been so far. I was walking with the grace of a zombie at that point. The anger had passed and now I was really hopeless. Sad my body couldn’t do it, and gave up. I got all full of tears as I started to realize, if I can’t hit 9 miles, I’ll never hot 13.1 in the race in Vegas for Team Challenge. I was defeated. I wanted so badly to just sit down, and cry it out, but I knew if I sat, getting up would suck and I still wouldn’t be back at my car.

Finally, the iPhone chimed in. 9 Miles! Yay workout completed. The problem? I wasn’t back at my car yet. The course was actually 9.5 miles…I still had .5 miles to hobble back to my car. And hobble I did. I got back there and just sat. Didn’t move. Still just second guessing the shit out of myself.

I got home and slept for 4 hours. My body trashed. Angry. Sore. Hurting. My ego crushed. I called my running pal Lauren, from Forward Is A Pace and lamented my awful running experience. I wanted to curse the day I signed up for TC, and myself for even thinking this diseased thing I tote around (my body) could handle 13.1 miles. I needed a pity party.

I was sore for about 5 days. Legit pain in my hips. A constant reminder of my failure at 9 miles.

And last weekend, I woke up and went to the same park…and I did it again but instead I did 10 miles. And you know what? It sucked. Everything happened almost exactly the same but the only difference is, I went further and it didn’t hurt as bad. I didn’t nap after. My body recovered much faster. I got frustrated and angry at some points, but I didn’t want to give up or cry. I wanted to get back to my car still standing.

I’ll say this about running, it doesn’t get any easier (at least not for me), but it doesn’t get harder either. I pretty much max out as hard as it will get, and stay there and then its just a mental battle of getting through the tough part.

Additionally, I did 10 miles without a bathroom stop. I checked bathrooms for 5 miles and all of them were locked, and while I would have preferred to have one as I would have probably couldn’t have stopped worrying about not having a bathroom, I didn’t need one. It’s not that I needed to go, but running makes you want to poop even with people who have healthy colons. So, I just wanted to have the security of a bathroom every few miles. But I didn’t. And it didn’t matter.

Thanks jpouch.

And on that note, here are some pictures I took while running the 9 miles. Pictures don’t do it justice.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sick plan

We’re fast approaching cold season. Stay home from work/school season. Stupid winter season.

Today I had the mother of all headaches, dare I say a migraine. I decided to stay home from work and school today which sucked major ball because I had a lot to get done today. And since everything bothered me…sound, light, food…I just sat on the couch in silence wishing I could sleep or watch TV or the I could disconnect my head from my body and throw it in a closet or something.

So this got me thinking…have I forgotten how to be sick? I used to be so good at sick. I knew exactly how to spend my time being sick. I knew the best TV shows, and food to eat and times to drive and everything. Now I’m stuck.

So I decided to compile of list of things to do when you’re sick.

1. Online gamble. Perhaps this isn’t the best choice ever, but you don’t need any friends and there is the possibility of getting loaded and then you can buy more fun when you’re sick.

2. Rewatch a TV series in its entirety from your youth. For me, its been Dawson’s Creek, but I would gladly add The Wonder Years, Home Improvement and Salute Your Shorts to this list. Not only is it brainless and entertaining, but it literally reminds me of a time when life was so carefree.

3. Get a chair hobby. This is my fancy term for fun stuff you can do on your ass. Crochet, Knit, Quilt…all hobbies popular among ladies in their 70s. Hell go visit your grandma and have her teach you. My grandma is a wealth of knowledge for this stuff. Come over and I’ll have my grandma teach you.

4. Blog. ’nuff said.

5. Cuddle Puppies. If you don’t have a puppy, don’t cuddle a cat its not the same. Go buy a puppy.

6. Read a book. or 10. Pick a book series and crank them out. I miss being able to read like I did during my really sick days.

7. Get really good at something. Maybe its painting your nails, or making models, or counting ceiling titles or something. I dunno.

8. …

I’m out of ideas. See I told you, I have forgotten how to be sick. And right now, sick sucks.

What do you guys do when you’re sick?

Just Scopin'

This?

Or this?

https://i2.wp.com/herewomentalk.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/stethoscope.jpg

Ok how about this?

 

Wouldn’t it be great if when someone said, “I’m going for a scope tomorrow”, it meant they were getting a sweet telescope. That they were going to spend their day anticipating the next starry night, instead of drinking clear liquids and shoving enemas up their butthole?

I’ve been due for a scope since June 6th, which was my year post take-down assiversary. I however, promptly celebrated by eating cake and did not have a scope. July…no scope. August…no scope. September…no scope. You see where I’m going with this.

“The time has come”, the walrus said. I’m pretty sure walruses don’t have to get scopes, so he wasn’t talking about a camera up his big ol’ walrus butt.

I’m being a cry baby. I know I should go get my check up, and that I should waltz on in there and be all “Ok here’s my ass, shove a camera up there”.

BUT I DON’T WANNA.

I have successfully gone almost a year without getting ANYTHING shoved up my ass. That’s like a freaking Guinness book world record for IBD patients. A whole year without any fingers, tubes, camera, pills, NOTHING.

And now..my “winning” streak is ending. In our world…a year with no butt intrusion is winning. Take that Charlie Sheen.

So tomorrow, I shall do my stupid scope. Awake.

I KNOW. I vowed to NEVER ever do that again, but this is a pouchoscopy, which means its short and sweet…or so they tell me. And as much as I’d love to get knocked out an anesthetized tomorrow…in lieu of taking the whole day off, and making someone else take a whole day off to cart my doped up ass around, I’m putting on my big girl pants (well actually I’ll be taking them off), and going to go do this stupid thing awake.

Also…its not until 2:45pm. Also…I have to work the morning before.

So I will not be taking the recommended 2 enemas before hand. Why? Because I have a jpouch damn it. It’s practically a build in enema…nothing stays in there more than a few hours anyway. AND…because I’m a rule breaker. I do what I want.

Tonight I had my “go to” clean out meal…a double cheese burger meal, and I’m sure in a few hours I’ll be all kinds of cleaned out.

Secretly though I’m kind of hoping that while I’m sitting there on the table, staring horrified at my own ass as the camera gets closer and closer, that when the scope is all up there doing its thing, perhaps we’ll find the Hamburgler stuck up my ass.

I’m pretty sure that would complete my life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Its more Than Showing Up

Recently I’ve been having a hard time training for Team Challenge. I can’t seem to find the time to train properly, I’m getting frustrated and discouraged. For me, just signing up and showing up to the start line isn’t anything worth writing home about. Anyone can register for the race. Anyone can buy the gear. Anyone can say “I’m on a Team Challenge team”. To me…this is about finishing the race. Finishing the race is what will be amazing. There is nothing amazing about showing up. Its about how you finish. And when I say “finish”, I don’t mean how great your time is or how fast/slow you were. I mean that you trained, you showed up, you ran/walked the race and you finished it strong just like how you planned. You don’t punk out along the way. You don’t give up when things get too hard.

I had a long chat with my TC mentor and manager last night about how I was discouraged in my training because I simply do not have the time to run 15 miles a week right now. I had planned on running this race as much as I could and right now, that’s not even close to 13.1 miles. My manager and mentor told me that maybe I should consider changing my race strategy to explicitly run/walking. Which is essentially interval training. I can’t believe I didn’t think about that. I was so focused on how my training was lacking, that I didn’t consider my plan was flawed. Right now all my schedule allows for is running when I can, so that means when race day comes, I’ll run/walk this 1/2 marathon. My body won’t have conditioned itself enough to run the whole thing…and you know what? I am fine with that because this is part of what I signed up for. I signed up to troubleshoot this. It would be easy to give up, or to just say “Fine, I’ll walk it”.

But that’s not who I am. I will fight to do my best. I will show myself and my team that I am stronger than UC. I am stronger than MS.

Sure. Things happen. Life happens. I could go into an MS relapse tomorrow that takes away my vision, or numbs me from the waist down…but I will do what it takes to get out of it, and start training when I can.

Team Challenge is a workout for your body AND your mind. Its improving my mental strength. Its showing me I can do more than I thought that I could and most of the time the only excuses I have are ones that I have convinced myself are true. “I can’t do it because ________”. Pick your favorite excuse. I’ve already used it.

To me its not amazing to show up, its amazing to complete something you’ve trained so hard for. Amazing is the feeling you get when you cross the finish line, not when you register for the race. It doesn’t take courage to sign up, it takes $75 to sign up. It takes courage to do it…and complete it. It doesn’t take much to buy all the equipment and call myself a runner. Running is what makes the runner.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: